Highland Shift (Highland Destiny: 1) (33 page)

He followed that thought by tracing the chain with his finger, then gently brushing the top of her breasts. He kissed her neck, before biting the sensitive cord that connected to her shoulder. She shivered with anticipation.

The song changed just then and Krall was singing “Look of Love.” Faolan took Elena in his arms and danced her around the lounge, looking deeply into her eyes. He stroked her cheek with a finger, caressed her back, nuzzled her neck. She melted from the heat of his love.

With an effort, he pulled himself back when the song ended and led her to the table. Popping the cork on the champagne, he poured them each a glass and then offered a toast, “To my wife. We begin our journey together this day. You loved me for who I was, and you made me into who I am. Your inner radiance lights my way and completes me. Separately, we were just two people; together, we are a force of nature. I love you, Elena, more than life itself. To an eternity of our love.” They drank to their future.

The rest of the evening was filled with love. While they took turns feeding each other chunks of lobster dipped in butter, he told her stories of growing up with his family and later of Red and Lilly. He explained he had continued to age normally until he was about thirty, and then nothing had changed for hundreds of years. He told her of how he had discovered boats and the kindred transients he met at small villages and marinas around Scotland. It had started as a safe haven and developed into a passion.

Elena needed to put the concern she’d hidden earlier to rest.
Who’d paid for all this?
Coming at it sideways, she tentatively asked about working once their lives settled down.

Faolan laughed gently, “Is that what has been concerning you, lass? Who paid for all this?” he swept his arm, gesturing at the room. “My clan had money enough, and you can make a lot of money in three hundred years, if you live simply. Neither of us e’er needs to work." Then he was quick to reassure Elena that she could work if she so chose, he didna mean to dictate.

Elena thought about that for a minute. She had never imagined herself in a life where work was an option. She thought she might like to try a life of leisure. Or rather a life of raising a family, with him by her side.

She placed her hands on her stomach, thinking about children. “Do you think I could really be pregnant?”

“Aye, lass, I think it’s a good possibility. I am sure the old man would know from his Druid ways, and they’ll not be wrong.”

“And you’re okay with that? With us having a baby so soon?”

“Aye, Elena, ‘tis a dream come true to be having children with you. I would like a lot of children. Maybe a dozen or more.”

Elena’s head shot up in shock, until she realized he was teasing her. “Maybe three or four, if I have anything to say about it,” she countered, laughing. Smiling into each other’s eyes, they knew they would have plenty of time to continue making their respective cases.

He ran his fingers down her exposed neck and pulled another jewelry box out of his pocket. “’Tis just another little something.”

Astonished, Elena opened the box to find emerald earrings to match the necklace he had already given her. She put them on and they hung gracefully, accenting her long neck perfectly, especially with her hair worn up as it was.

They finished dinner and cuddled together on the couch. Elena had never experienced such luxury. She was sure the gifts tonight must have totaled in the tens of thousands of dollars. She was speechless. She did the only thing she could think of, and kissed him. He pulled her onto his lap, and they finally let nature take her course.

Later in bed, after they were both replete in their loving, Faolan pulled out one more
gift, this one was tucked under the mattress. Elena started to protest, but he covered her mouth with his until she quit trying to talk.

“A mere boon, lass. Doona’
fash yourself over it, ‘tis but a trinket, one to be worn for fun.”

When she opened it, she found a charm bracelet, already containing three charms: a boat, a heart engraved with their wedding date, and a wolf, with amber gems for eyes.

“I will add our babe’s to it when ‘tis time, love.”

Elena would treasure this gift the most. It was the loveliest of wedding nights.

“What do you mean they lost them?” snarled Worthington. Liam was standing in front of Worthington’s desk at the Edinburgh office of Worthington, Tyler, and Walters. The office was starkly furnished in a modern motif with black slate, black leather, and chrome. As a corner office of a five-story building, two walls were floor-to-ceiling windows. The third wall contained a wet bar and bookcases, and behind them, secrets.

Worthington took a deep breath, pulled himself up to his full height, and said, “This is well out of hand. There is nothing that we need them for now, Liam. Let it go. I have other, more important jobs for you.” Worthington led the way over to a seating area and invited Liam to sit while he turned to the bar to pour drinks.

“Some on the council have begun to question your activities.”

Liam sucked in his breath and waited.

“Fear not, Liam. I have laid the blame on a young author who heard rumors of magick and secrets at the farm. These rumors have survived for a millennium; it was not hard to imagine some enterprising journalist uncovered them. We are both safe; however, I am convinced it is time to distance ourselves from any connection with the wolf for now.”

“I don’t like that the…Master,” Liam sneered the title, “feels the need to concern himself with our business.”

“I agree. It is time to end this most ignoble period in the history of the Bresal Etarlam, the rightful Druid sect. Next month, the high council will meet on Beltane
, then we shall bring forward our most important… proposal. We have much to do to prepare, and I need you to focus your energies.”

Liam looked at his uncle for a very long time, before replying, “Aye, ‘tis good to move forward, at last.” Both men sipped their drinks, each lost in thought.

Liam was relieved his uncle would move on from his obsession with the little bitch his stupid cousin had been mixed up with. He’d insisted that they follow Steve’s plan to make her murder appear to be random street violence, which was not Liam’s forte. However, Steve was the most senior of Uncle Martin’s personal inner circle, and a trusted associate. It left Liam feeling inept, and he’d performed poorly in his tasks related to Elena and the farm. Magick would have been so much easier. Ordering Martin IV to clean up his own mess would have been even better.

Liam was careful not to think about his cousin, young Martin, when he was around his uncle, so he would put those thoughts away for now. It was time for him to concentrate on the plans for Beltane, the night of the welcome feast for the first day of summer. He knew how long Uncle Martin had been planning for the day he would assume his rightful place as Master of the order of the Etarlam. Liam would do everything in his power to make that happen. He understood the need for power, for taking one’s rightful place. He also understood lines of succession.

****

What a monumental waste of time the search for the mirror had turned out to be. It
was never intended to be used by anyone other than a MacGailtry. Martin studied Liam and realized he’d made a tactical error in restricting the methods he could use to kill the woman. Liam was an incredibly talented apprentice; the potential for great power was there, just barely under control. It had cost Liam much to use conventional methods and outsiders to correct the mess created by the boy. Perhaps it would soon be time to claim Liam as his own.

The girl. Elena. Who would have thought she was made of such magick? He was sure she hadn’t known. His son certainly hadn’t known; he didn’t know much of anything and certainly nothing about the Order. Yet here she was. Not only did she survive the three attacks, she’d fooled him in the cell. How had she survived? How had she lifted the curse? He had no doubt now that it was she who had lifted the curse, and not the wolf, although he had untapped power as well. He would figure out how to harness their power. Using power intended for others was his specialty.

Worthington cleared his throat, bringing them both back to the present. He flipped the switch on a small box on the table, which sent unseen and unheard waves into the room and began speaking a strange mix of Gaelic, Scots, and some other tongue. He wanted to make sure his words remained in this room and that no one at the firm could eavesdrop. He was not expecting others to be around on this Sunday afternoon, but you could never be too careful.

They put their heads together and spoke of unspeakable acts. They had spent the last five years collecting the right spells and potions. Certain artifacts had been imbued with false power. At the feast of Beltane when the council next met, the power would recognize its true master, and Worthington would finally hold the exalted position of Master.
As he always should have.

****

Elena awoke to another morning nestled in Faolan’s arms and thought life couldn’t get any better. They’d been on the boat for more than a week now and each day passed in a happy glow. The concerns that had plagued them at the farm had fallen away. It was beautiful, peaceful, and private. So far, neither the maps nor the mirror had provided any insight as to their destination.

They spent their days and nights finding ways to pleasure each other. They stayed to themselves, rarely stopping at the small marinas and villages that dotted the small islands, because they needed to keep their location private if someone were looking for them.

After a week at sea, Elena had become quite the sailor, in her opinion. She was learning to read the night sky and the nautical maps. She even drove the boat while Faolan continued his research. They checked the mirror several times each day, always seeing their reflections. On the eighth day at sea, the mirror showed clouds instead of their reflection.

“It must mean we’re getting closer, lass. Come help me look at the maps again.” Examining the charts, they saw an area of the map that showed several small islands that formed a crescent shape, going from largest to smallest, north to south. At the farthest end of the crescent the islands faded away to a series of symbols on the map, indicating it was a dangerous place to navigate. That entire section of the chart was covered with symbols indicating previous shipwrecks and submerged rocks, and nothing remotely resembling an island.
Oh God, I just know that’s where we have to go.

The weather raged around them for the next two days, pitching the boat violently, cresting the waves, slamming brutally into the troughs. The navigation alarm sounded continuously, increasing Elena’s tension a hundred-fold. She imagined jagged rocks beneath the boat, reaching for them, calling them to share the fate of the hundreds of shipwrecked sailors who had come before and died. In truth, there was not much imagination necessary, since the black rocks poked up on either side of the boat in the trough of the waves.

Faolan didn’t attempt to persuade her everything was all right. His jaw was tense, his forearms corded with the strain of maintaining their course. The mirror clearly showed their path, a light gray trail, surrounded by a darker mist. They sat on the captain’s chair, drawing strength from each other.

By the afternoon of the second day, they were both exhausted. Elena had been constantly sick, unable to keep down any food. Sleep had been impossible; they couldn’t set anchor, and neither was willing to leave the other to navigate alone. Elena checked the mirror
again, monitoring their progress, when she noticed the gray pathway through the mist had changed. It was getting progressively lighter than the surrounding darkness.

The dense fog in front of them was the worst they’d yet encountered. Although the clock said it was mid-afternoon, the darkness settled around them. Slowing the engines even further, they inched through the near total darkness. It was eerie. No sounds penetrated the air, not even the water against the sides of the boat. The silence was unnerving.

Without warning, all power on the boat died, and Faolan desperately tried to restart the engine and regain control. Without the navigation system and engines, they would be tossed around and killed against the rocks.

“Faolan, look!”

“I canna just now, Elena,” Faolan gritted through clenched teeth.

“No, Faolan, look at the mirror,” Elena said urgently, as she held it out to him. The mirror had changed to a near blinding light, with no
discernible image.

The boat jerked forward as though someone was pulling a string attached to the bow, pulling them through the clouds that surrounded them. They rushed up to the
flybridge, straining to see through the fog. The air was not the bone-chilling dampness Elena had expected, the balminess made her think of the monsoon season back home. Faolan put his arm around her protectively, and Elena circled her arm around his waist. Side-by-side they stood, watching, and waiting.

Breaking through the clouds was a lot like what Elena pictured arriving at heaven might be like. She wouldn’t have been surprised to hear celestial trumpets in the background while an angelic choir heralded their arrival. The clouds that had surrounded their boat for days suddenly separated and the sun shone down on them, the warmth caressing her skin. She looked out at a land that was green and fertile, a valley surround by gentle hills, with a backdrop of a soaring mountain.